


prayers and proclamations

by Elizabeth (anghraine)



Series: The Queer Rogue One AU [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bisexual Female Character, Determinator, Extended Scene, F/F, Lesbian Character, Major Character Injury, elevator scene, hurt/comfort ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anghraine/pseuds/Elizabeth
Summary: Cassia climbs.





	prayers and proclamations

Cassia Andor was not an imposing woman. Lean on a good day and just taller than Mon Mothma, she passed unnoticed almost everywhere she went. That served her well, of course; she was a spy, not a warrior. Either way, she didn’t need raw strength to hold her own in combat. Reflexes and speed and impeccable aim had kept her alive this long.

Well, and cheating.

She could shoot and dodge and sneak and run away with the best of them. But she didn’t see how any of those would help at the moment. Except the last, maybe. She’d evaded Imperial clutches countless times—raced down countless alleys, scaled countless walls, disappeared into shadows and crowds. This was just one more wall to climb.

Cassia’s vision swam as she tried to stand up. One knee buckled, with a jolt of pain that irradiated her entire leg. Her side burned. When she reached down for her blaster,  _everything_ burned.

But Jyn hadn’t fallen. Jyn was up there, with the plans. The man in white, too. If he got to her, it all would have been for nothing. Everything would have been for nothing.

She had to help. She and Jyn had to get the plans out. And—

_Jyn, Jyn—_

Cassia was not strong. But she had never given up on anything in her life. Ledge by ledge, she climbed.

* * *

In a haze of pain, she clambered onto the top of the Citadel. Here. She’d made it. Only the Force knew if it would be soon enough. Cassia leaned against the nearest pillar, trying to catch her breath.

Didn’t matter. She had to keep going.

Even this required caution, though. She wouldn’t be able to dodge or run this time. There’d be one chance, and that only if he didn’t see her before she saw him. But Cassia knew caution. Didn’t like it, but nevertheless lived by it ninety percent of the time. She could manage this. She had to.

So she stumbled on as unobtrusively as she could, until she heard voices. Jyn’s voice.

Pressing herself behind the last pillar, Cassia took deep, silent breaths as she pulled out her blaster. Long ago, one of her teachers had said she had aim to shame a Jedi. It better not fail her now.

Her hands were shaking, along with everything else. She gripped the blaster with one hand, steadied it with the other, and dared a glance around the pillar.

At the other end of the catwalk, she saw Jyn. Filthy and beautiful, she held herself tall, back straight and chin high. Though Cassia couldn’t make out her words, she didn’t need to. The clear, proud tone said enough.

Between them hovered the man in white. An easy target. From this end, anyway; Jyn shifted from parade-upright to slightly hunched, clearly preparing to barrel right through anything he might try. She had to see his blaster, but—well. That was Jyn.

Even Jyn couldn’t will herself through blaster fire, though. He’d have to miss, and at this distance, he couldn’t miss.

The moment that his fingers closed on his blaster, Cassia staggered into position and pulled the trigger. He went down like a crate of bricks, crumpled beneath his tasteless cape.

She couldn’t miss at this distance, either.

For a flicker of a moment, Jyn stared at him in bewilderment, then lifted her eyes up. When she saw Cassia, relief lit her face, mouth curving in—she wouldn’t call it joy. Satisfaction, shared victory.

Cassia allowed herself a twitch of an answering smile. With a nod of acknowledgment, she kept her blaster raised, guarding Jyn’s back as she rushed over to transmit the file. Anyone might still be out there. Any number of people. Though there didn’t seem many at this point, she could slow them down with her blaster. With her body, if that failed, give Jyn a few more seconds.

It might need to be that. The pain she’d shoved out of her mind kept closing in on her, a limp weakness spreading through her body. Cassia lowered her blaster, conserving what strength remained, even while dizziness turned everything blurry and unsteady. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to keep standing.

_I have to_ , she thought, clinging to the lone familiar thread.  _Jyn._

* * *

In the instant that Krennic collapsed, Jyn couldn’t believe her eyes. In the next, she had no difficulty whatsoever doing so. Of course Cassia stood there, blaster in hand, as if she’d never fallen. Of course she came back for Jyn, rushed to protect her with no regard for herself, just as she’d done in the Jedha market, and in Saw’s refuge, and in the bombing of Eadu. That was Cassia.

Secure with Cassia guarding her back, Cassia’s trace of a smile and nod, Jyn rushed over to the terminal. Everything for this moment. Papa, the others, Kay. Cassia resurrected by some miracle.

And this time, nothing stopped them. The file finished transmitting in its entirety, whole and complete. Jyn gave a cry of joy, felt not grim satisfaction but a bright, ecstatic rush of triumph. Lifting her face towards Cassia, she couldn’t contain a beaming smile and had no need to try.

Cassia had lowered her blaster, hands trembling and eyes dazed. She didn’t so much favour her left side as list to it.

In the moment, Jyn didn’t assume the worst. It’d been a long day, and longer for Cassia. She needed help, and Jyn rushed to her before the thought even completed, smile fading. Up close, she could see Cassia’s ashen skin, her lips parted for laboured breaths. Her free hand pressed against her side, where she’d been shot.

This wasn’t  _of course_  at all. Krennic had shot her, sent her body smashing into beam after beam, platform after platform. She’d seen it, screamed  _Cassia!_  even as she stared in disbelief, head shaking. She knew people would die on this mission. But not Cassia. Jyn couldn’t just leave her—

She had to leave her. And Cassia hadn’t died. Now, though, she looked as if she might crumple at any moment. Jyn might lose her at any moment, as she’d lost her mother, father, Saw, everything, and at the same hand. Krennic.

In a white fury, Jyn whirled towards him, ready to tear his heart out with her teeth. But Cassia yanked her back.

“Leave it,” she breathed.

She must have drawn on some reservoir of strength. Her grip was still firm, though Jyn could easily have broken it. But something about it watered down her brief struggle, and she stilled as she felt Cassia’s murmuring against her temple, her hair. It was scarcely more than a whisper, yet still low and panting.

“That’s it.”

Not much else could have stopped her. Jyn stood stiff in Cassia’s arms, jaw still clenched, reluctantly letting her tug her away while the rage dwindled from nuclear to merely volcanic. Even that drained when she felt Cassia’s grasp falter, her body trembling against Jyn’s until it canted to the side. Jyn caught her about the waist without a thought—just until she steadied again, except she never did. When Cassia adjusted her weight and tried to pull herself upright, one leg gave way and the other wobbled under her own weight, like a child just learning to walk.

Undoubtedly she’d cracked some bones, at the least. Then pulled herself up, presumably by strength of will rather than body, since she was a good ways less muscular than Jyn. But no amount of will could carry a broken body indefinitely. Cassia, at last, had burned through the last of her endurance. The miracle was that it’d brought her this far.

“Put your arm around my shoulder,” Jyn said, in a gentler voice than she’d probably used in her entire life. “I can help.”

“No, I—you—” Cassia tried to stand on her own again, with no more success than the first time.

“I wasn’t asking.” Jyn started to pull her arm, the height difference and angle making it awkward, but Cassia complied without further protest.

That might be a worse sign than anything else.

Together, they hobbled towards the turbolift, Cassia limping as they went. But she looked down at Jyn, her dark eyes steady, as often as she grimaced and staggered forward.

“Do you think anyone’s listening?” she asked quietly.

Two days ago, Jyn would never have imagined that  _she_  would be offering hope to Cassia, who lived and killed by it. Yet when Jyn said “I do,” she really did believe it. She even managed to unearth a smile, Force knew from where. But she could give Cassia that much.

Cassia, easily encouraged, smiled back at her, a flash of affectionate faith more than reciprocated reassurance. She didn’t seem to have anything else to give. It was all right. Jyn supported Cassia’s body, and soaked up her devotion like sunshine.

Inside the lift, darkness flared and shrank in counterpoint to the light, but Jyn didn’t care. She just looked up at Cassia’s face, knowing perfectly well that she was badly hurt, that she might well hold Jyn back from an escape, might not make it anyway. Never mind. Jyn had spent years running. For Cassia, she would stay to the end, or to the beginning.

It all seemed very clear in that moment. They gazed at each other unflinchingly, and Jyn didn’t know when her hand had curled around Cassia’s neck, but nevertheless luxuriated in the sensation of Cassia’s hair in her fingers. Cassia braced herself and searched Jyn’s eyes, her stare as intense and focused as Jyn had ever seen it.

She couldn’t describe what she felt, measure its boundaries. Her mind only whispered  _you, you, you._

_Cassia._

Cassia’s body shuddered against her, and one more thought came.

_Don’t leave me._


End file.
